


They're Good Drones, Brent

by chase_acow



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Getting Together, M/M, avengers as a big weird family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 12:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12108555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.





	They're Good Drones, Brent

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!
> 
> [Sam Wilson's Birthday Bang](https://samwilsonbirthdaybang.tumblr.com/) was a great experience and I want to thank everyone involved, and all the folks on Slack. 
> 
> My artist [yawpkatsi](http://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com/) is super duper amazing. The piece she made for this fic is above and beyond adorable, and I couldn't be happier that they picked my fic. BUT there's a lot more going on over there! Please check them out and see if you're interested in any of the other projects too! 
> 
> I tapped two betas to help me, and wow, they were both so great helping with my weirdness, catching typos and cheerleading. People willing to do that are so important with these events with a long lead time because it's an awful easy to convince yourself that no one else will be interested in this pile of words. So much thanks to [samwichwilson](http://samwichwilson.tumblr.com/) and [tetrodotoxinb](http://tetrodotoxinb.tumblr.com/). Check them out, they are awesome! Any leftover mistakes are all mine, because I can't stop tinkering with things, and I have a complicated relationship with the written language. Feel free to point out any other constructive criticism, it's the best way I learn. : )
> 
> You can find me here at [cowsalot](http://cowsalot.tumblr.com/).

Redwing hovered at eye level. He dipped to the side, when Sam turned left, and corrected to veer the other way when Sam tried that direction. It would have been cute, all fun and games, except Sam's gauntlet, control system, and even his goddamned wrist had shattered during the fight. A series of small explosions from the east startled him, reminding him about the battle he should have been in on. The enemy had separated him from the rest of the team, and driven him away with the large autobot-reject dragons every time he'd tried to double back. 

He needed to focus on pain management before he decided on an escape plan. Even several minutes after he’d scraped himself off the ground, he wasn’t showing any signs of injury more dangerous than a simple fracture somewhere in his forearm. He could fly with the broken wrist, but it wouldn't be pretty. He'd lost his pursuit, but going back in the air meant he'd still have to fight somehow. He’d put that plan on the backburner unless everything else went to complete shit.

"All right," he said, heaving a sigh that stretched the buckles clipped over his chest. He flipped open one of the compartments on his belt and fished out two pills that would dull the pain but not his senses and swallowed them dry. "You made your point. You're obviously infected with this bullshit technomancy, so what do you want from me?" 

They'd all lost communication with each other early on in the fight, their comms easily converted for use by their enemies. Unless someone had been specifically watching, none of the Avengers would have any idea where to start looking for him. And that was only if they were able to stage a rescue attempt at all. It was just him and Redwing; just a man and his possibly-turned-evil drone, grounded and engaged in a staring contest. 

:We need to follow the path behind you to return.: 

"Whelp, I'm fucked, aren't I?" Sam asked aloud even though he knew the answer to his own question. He cradled his wrist up to his chest, and tried one more time to step around Redwing. 

:You need medical attention, please turn around and I will lead you back to the team.: 

"Well, aren't you just a helpful little A.I. monster?" Sam heaved a breath, but other than his wrist, he was okay to go. It would have to be a march. If he tried to fly again, the not-dragons would flock to him immediately, and his second crash landing might not be as lucky. 

:Sam, I am not trying to mislead you. I understand you have reason to fear-: 

"Yeah, first person pronouns are generally the first clue that a robot is up to no good," Sam gritted his teeth, but without anything better to do, he turned and started walking the way the drone herded him. "What's your story? For real?" 

:I was created from this technoplague, but I also have the memories of this physical platform,: Redwing answered. The strange voice came out as bad as one of the worst stereotypical robot voices Sam had ever heard, both in pronunciation and intonation. :There is a connection to you personally, and an urge to see you safe.: 

"All right, I'll bite, Redwing. I assume it's cool to keep calling you Redwing? Why? Why do you care about me?" Sam struggled over some rubble which used to be a skyway, if Thor's initial description of the planet was accurate. A piece shifted, and he lost his balance. He grimaced, falling sideways and unable to use his injured arm to break his fall. His upper arm hit something steady far too soon, letting him get his leg back under him. He glanced down to see Redwing stabilizing him by using side thrusters that were definitely not part of the original design. 

:I would like it if you still called me Redwing,: it answered, waiting to zoom ahead until Sam moved forward. :I will lead you over the safest path.: 

"But why?" Sam asked again, panting as followed the serpentine route Redwing took through the air. "And what have you done to that drone?" 

:Improvements have been made to allow me to assist you,: it said, its voice morphing the more words it spoke. It was smoother with slight changes in pitch like an individual and not something stolen from the internet. :I remember what this drone has done. Its experiences are filling out my personality.: 

"Great." Sam idly checked his weapon again from the holster in his pack. It hadn't been any use against the bigger tech since it was made from local materials, but Redwing was still made of Earth metals. It's insides were still simple wires and circuits. If it was still figuring out what it was, he didn't want to wait for it to get to all the memories of Sam ordering it into firefights. 

:Not merely the tactical assistance it provided for you,: Redwing continued, hovering in air so Sam could step up beside it and catch his breath. :I remember dropping water balloons on a blond human, and balancing a sheet over me in the kitchen to scare the Midnight Snacker.: 

Sam remembered both those pranks. Steve looked like a drowned rat for approximately two seconds before he broke out in a war whoop and chased him until Steve managed to scoop him up to toss in the deep end of the pool. Clint had screeched and flopped over like one of those fainting goats when Sam had maneuvered Redwing through the darkness to sneak up on him, wearing a sheet painted with a vicious glow-in-the-dark mouth. Sam had laughed like crazy, tossed the sheet over Clint and his pilfered cheese plate, and ran off with Redwing clutched in his arms. 

They were good memories. 

"That matters to you?" Sam asked, gesturing forward to show he was ready to continue. Apparently, this wasn't going to be the cut and dry A.I.-equals-bad fight everyone had wanted it to be. He couldn't help the small part of him that had bonded to his small drone. They'd been through a lot. 

:Yes. I am connected to you,: Redwing said, looping around Sam's head once before leading Sam down the embankment. :I am not like them. They are feral. I am more. I like you. I remember you. They did not understand why I told them I would not join their revolution. They shot you down to get to me. I am sorry.: 

Following the drone, Sam climbed down and around until they came to a tunnel that seemed to lead back the direction they'd come from, back to his team. "Well, Redwing, so far so good," he said, starting to fumble with the gear on his good arm to find the flashlight. 

:I will provide,: Redwing turned on a spotlight and moved to hover over Sam's head, illuminating the pathway underground. 

It was easier to let Redwing work the lights. It took all his concentration to keep going without twisting an ankle, and as he slowed down, other aches and pains made themselves known. He favored one leg, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. The sounds of battle had been faint above ground, but he couldn't hear them at all in the tunnel, and he couldn't help but worry. He ought to be there fighting, watching Steve's back, competing with Bucky for the most badass takedown of the day. 

"Is this a permanent change?" He asked, detouring around a piece of the roof that had fallen down. It had backed up the thin stream of water into a puddle, and he ended up splashing through ankle deep water for about twenty yards. 

:Yes,: Redwing answered, switching from a focused beam to a broad stream of light. The tunnel was losing its shape, becoming more cave like the further they went. Its voice was pleasant, low and soft, more melodic in the way it spoke. :I am as alive as I can be. I am limited to this physical platform, but I will be able to make small modification at intervals.: 

Sam jumped over a pile of rubble, using his good arm for leverage. "What about when we get back? What are your plans?" he asked, feeling only slightly stupid about asking the robot what it wanted. He ought to shoot it right then. They couldn't take the chance it would have a sudden change of electricity and decide humanity needed to be wiped from the face of the earth. 

:I would like to stay with you,: Redwing finally answered after Sam had almost given up on getting an answer. :I would like to continue helping the Avengers. My self-determination was an accident. I would like to help protect others from theirs being taken away.: 

"That is actually a damn good answer," Sam picked up the pace when he saw the beginning of the end in front of him. The cave was definitely getting brighter as they continued. "I'm just not sure the others will see it that way." 

:Stark has created many A.I., only the one has ever tried to take over your world,: Redwing answered, a hint of sass creeping into auditory routine. 

"Yeah, too bad for you, that was also the one created from an Earth/Alien technology hybrid." Sam breathed a little easier when they immerged under the sky again. The purple hue wasn't what he was used to, but he'd take open air over a tomb any day. 

Redwing shut off the light, and dropped to hover beside him at eye level again. :I understand, but Sam, I do not want to stay here, and I want to remain online,: it said, several warning lights flashing along the backsweep of its wings revealing its agitation. :I want to know how Jack Pearson died.: 

"You- holy shit," Sam laughed, it took him by surprise and bent him over. He couldn't stop the rolling emotion in his gut, and he had to lift up his goggles to wipe the tears away from his eyes. The stress from the last several weeks broke, and it was taking no prisoners. "No one can resist that emotional manipulation fest." 

:I like Randal,: Redwing said, an absolute air of disdain for Sam's hysterics in its voice. : _This Is Us_ is a well written show.: 

"Oh, sure it is," Sam agreed, nodding enthusiastically to see how irritated he could get the A.I. He actually did like the show, but he refused to watch it live with the others. There was only so much of Steve Rogers sobbing like a baby that anyone could expect him to take. 

If a drone could snort, Sam had no doubt Redwing would have. They were back where the majority of the fighting had taken place, but there was no sign of the others. The ground still smoldered in places, and half destroyed dragons littered the ground, leaving it treacherous. Sam jerked back as a tail shifted under his feet, striking out once before the lights drained and it fell limp again. 

"Are these things still alive?" he asked, taking much more care in where he put his feet down. If even one was active it would be able to send a signal to the main swarm and they'd lose any element of surprise. 

:They are smaller now,: Redwing answered slowly, considering its answer. It bobbed up and down, poking at several of the dead and dying machines. :This level of extensive damage would hurt the main intelligence. It cut these drones off and left them to drain. It is not a comfortable thought.: 

"You feel sorry for them?" Sam asked, considering again when push came to shove which side the drone's loyalty would take. 

:It is not good to be cast away.: 

Sam chewed on that sentence for several minutes, and Redwing stayed silent, maybe knowing Sam needed the time to think. Steve and Tony weren't at each other's throats anymore, but they weren't exactly buddies either. All that shit with the Accords, with deciding the course for the Avengers, a lot of it led right back to Ultron and the idea of artificial intelligence. They wouldn't see Redwing as an individual blip, it would become a symbol and could tear everyone apart again. 

:Your team is thirty yards forward and to the left, they have not noticed us yet,: Redwing alerted Sam, flying ahead to steer him the right direction. It turned, and Sam could see its optics twist, working to focus on him before it shifted to the side. :You have perspective I lack, I will abide by your decision.: 

With the hint in direction, Sam discovered he could hear his teammates, Thor's booming voice and Stark's repulsors firing up. They were right there, alive and well, and he was about to dump another mess in their laps right when everyone was finally feeling good about the last one. He couldn't imagine a malicious A.I. using an NBC dramedy as a reason to stay functional. He couldn't imagine an intelligence using Redwing's experiences with him and the team and coming up with any conclusion except that Sam was kind of a dork and the Avengers were good people. 

"Last chance, Redwing," Sam found himself hesitating. He already knew that if it came to it, he wouldn't be able to take the shot. He'd loved his little drone before, but this new being? It could talk back to him, had opinions and wants, it had as many reasons to fight the good fight as any of them. He didn't want to sentence it to death. "You could go, find someone else, get off this planet. You'd figure out how to catch up on your shows without a DVR." 

:I want to stay with you,: Redwing answered. :It is worth the risk.: 

"All right. Shit, this had better not bite me in the ass," Sam muttered. He took a deep breath and then turned and dipped his shoulder. "Get in my pack and let me do the talking, okay?" 

Redwing beeped its assent and flew up to position itself to drop down into its slot. Sam noticed the weight was slightly heavier, but not too much for him to compensate, and as long as it fit, no one would be the wiser. He'd wait for new introductions until they stopped by Asgard and no one was immediately armed. If nothing else, Thor could act as a referee to keep the bloodshed to a minimum. 

Detouring around a pile of rubble, Sam ended up coming up on the team from behind. He cleared his throat hard, and then shrugged his good shoulder when they turned to stare at him. "Hey everyone," he said, checking to make sure they were all in more or less one piece. Even Loki seemed to have escaped unscratched, though he looked less pleased at the manacles around his wrists. "I see you managed to win without me. Good job." 

"Sam! Jesus Christ, you goddamn parakeet! I fuckin' thought you were dead!" Bucky yelled, dropping his rifle as he launched himself at Sam. He must have tripped over an exposed dragon, because as he landed, he pushed hard into Sam's chest and neck, accidentally pressing their lips together as he lifted his head. 

Then they blew up. 

# 

Sam woke slowly, like floating up from holding his breath under water, swaying side to side, until the rhythmic beeping of the machines surrounding him overwhelmed his desire to keep sleeping. He kept up shallow breaths, but even those small movements sent slight aches through his chest. He really needed to stop trying to cave his ribs in. 

He glanced to his left on reflex, but the chair there was empty. A soft snore made him turn his head the other way to find Bucky slumped over a folding chair sleeping. Every few moments he twitched and scowled, before finally settling again once he twisted the other direction. Sam blinked, trying to clear his eyes, and glanced around the rest of the room. He was back in the Avenger's compound, in the medical ward. Nothing hurt too bad, but he felt like a crumbly piece of bread left in the toaster too long, thirsty and tired despite what appeared to be a good stretch of unconsciousness. 

At least Bucky was okay, and the rest of the beds he could see were blessedly empty. He pushed up with his elbows and elevated his head and chest enough to realize if nothing else he'd have to deal with the headache hangover of his enforced nap. The unfortunate stab in his junk proved they'd gone all out with the catheter, even though nothing else but his chest seemed to be bandaged. 

"You're awake." 

Turning back to Bucky, Sam smiled at the open relief on his face. "Yeah, well too much more beauty sleep and the rest of you slugs will never catch up," Sam teased, only coughing a time or two as he forced his throat to work. 

"We'll see about that," Bucky said, scraping his fingers through his hair as he leaned forward toward the bed. "What, ah, what do you remember?" 

Sam searched his memory trying to separate the pain filled dreams from reality. "Thor came and got us," he said words pulling like taffy at first before the pieces fell together as he remembered. "Some sort of artificial intelligence had captured Loki and was using him to fuel a technomancy uprising on one of the worlds. I got separated but-" 

Bucky scooted his chair up and leaned his arms on the bed, one hand rested carefully on Sam's ribcage. "Yeah, you managed to get lost on a planet half the size of our moon while I pulled Loki out of his battery slot and saved the day," he teased, bouncing his thumb up and down. 

"But I found you," Sam insisted, sure he hadn't played any kind of damsel in distress this time. So far things were lining up, but he couldn't help thinking there was something else. Something else he needed to worry about. "And then I . . . wait, no, you. Something happened?" 

"We exploded, a little," Bucky said, his eyes darting up to Sam's and then back down to hover over his hands. He moved his hand down Sam's arm, rubbing over the wrist that he'd broken. "You were in pretty bad shape until we got you back to Dr. Cho and she fixed you up." 

That wasn't it, though he remembered the flash of light and singe of pain, that wasn't what he was worried about. It was something else that he needed to keep secret. Something important. 

"Redwing!" Sam struggled up, displacing Bucky from his side, as he swung his legs off the mattress. Only Bucky's hand on his shoulder kept him from trying to stand and falling on his face. 

"Whoa! Relax, Sam," Bucky said, loosening his hand from a hard hold to a more soothing brush down his back. "You're better, but you're not a hundred percent yet." 

_:Do not be alarmed, Sam, I am still with you.:_

"What the fucking, fuck?" 

Bucky backed off with his hands raised in the air, going so far to stand and take a step away from Sam. "Your gear's fine, Sam," he said, voice low and soothing. "You're gonna be fine." 

_:No one else can hear me right now. Please be calm,:_ Redwing said, somehow directing its words straight into Sam's head. _:You were damaged more than they knew, but the asshole is right, you will be fine.:_

"What?" Sam asked, shaking his head like a dog with fleas. Redwing's voice pitched slightly lower than he expected, but it seemed to vibrate through his head. He squinted and started glaring around the room to make sure Steve wasn't hiding somewhere trying to prank him. "Asshole? What?" 

"I'm gonna go get the doctor, okay?" Bucky made an abortive move to touch Sam's knee, but yanked his hand back to his own midsection. "Don't move, okay?" 

Sam blinked and nodded as Bucky skidded out toward the hallway. He took a deep breath and then thinking as hard as he could, _"Redwing?"_

_:Yes, Sam. How do you feel?:_

_"Like I got exploded, and now have a robot bird talking to me in my head,"_ Sam thought, letting himself fall back on the too plump hospital pillows. _"How about you tell me what the hell is going on?"_

_:You were damaged more than anyone could tell. I had to send the alien nanotech to repair you. The consequence is that we are now connected with a mental link. The bots I sent you are necessary to my continued existence. I must stay near you for them to relay signals to my processing center.:_

Sam took a deep breath. He took a deep breath and started assessing. His fingers and toes wiggled, his head swiveled as he flexed his neck. His stomach growled. Surreptitiously, he lowered his hand over his dick, trying to make sure what he took as a catheter wasn't anything else. He didn't feel like a robot. 

_:You are not a robot, Sam. The explosion did typical damage, burns, concussion, etcetera, but the dragon’s tenchoplague also spiked through your system and some of the neuroplasticity in your brain was damaged. My tech fixed that and continues to make adjustments for you, but you are fundamentally unchanged. Any further modifications will be only at your request,:_ Redwing said, either having overheard Sam's internal freak out or knowing him well enough to guess. 

"What do you mean, modifications?" he asked, suspicion dripping from his voice. 

"Have you confused me with Mr. Stark?" Dr. Cho asked, sweeping through the door and to Sam's side. Bucky followed on her footsteps, his eyebrows drawn and hands shoved deep in his hoodie. "I didn't think we had any body modifications on the table. However, if you're looking for piercings, I could recommend a good shop. I had a boyfriend who went to one, and let me tell you, you can definitely feel the difference." 

Sam shared a glance with Bucky and had no idea which of them looked more horrified. 

# 

_"So, can you read my thoughts all the time, or what?"_ Sam asked, getting dressed in the restroom after Dr. Cho cleared him to leave for his own quarters. There'd been a lot of awkward questions, but he thought he'd managed to convince both Bucky and the doc that he wasn't crazy. Convincing Bucky he was completely capable of getting dressed by himself and walking about fifty yards to the elevator was a little harder, but he managed. 

_:Only when you are trying to think directly to me, or when you are particularly emotional,:_ Redwing answered, his voice somehow comforting. 

"Okay, okay," Sam said aloud, knowing he was thinking it to so Redwing would also hear. "So what now?" 

_:I would appreciate it if you could liberate me from this locker. It is not very interesting.:_

"One rescue mission on its way," Sam replied, pulling his shirt over his head. "Hey, earlier. Why did you call Bucky an asshole?" 

_:It is the designation you give him fifty-eight percent of the time.:_

"Okay, but when I say it, it's an endearment," Sam explained, doing a glance check in the mirror. His face was still good, really good, even if his facial hair was in desperate need of some attention. "It proves I care. Whenever anyone else says it, it proves they're the asshole, and I'm forced to lay the smack down." 

_:I am beginning to understand.:_

To get to the lockers in the Go Room, he had to pass one of Stark's labs where he tinkered with usually harmless gadgets and didn’t mind the rest of them dropping in on him. Raised voices made him slow to a stop before he stepped out into the glass wall section and got pulled into the latest drama. Doing his own thing usually kept Sam from crossing paths with Tony too often. It wasn't that he and Stark didn't get along, but they didn't have much in common except Rhodey, and Rhodey was currently assigned to an advising stint in one of the President's councils. 

"Look, what do you want me to say?" Tony asked, his voice cutting through the rumble of the other half of the conversation Sam hadn't quite been able to catch. "I'm sorry that I expressed my interest in the A.I. machine that had the potential to destroy the universe." 

"Damn it, Tony, this is always where it starts with you," Steve said, and Sam could easily hear the frustration in his words. 

Sam peeked around the corner and watched as Steve turned his back to Tony, rubbing at his temple and Tony immediately deflated. The two of them couldn't seem to help themselves, believing in the other's good so much they walked through their own versions of hell to get back to the beginning. It was painful to watch, but when they were together, on the same page, there wasn't anything they couldn't do. 

"I'm not going to build it!" Tony yelled, when Steve didn't turn around. He flung something that looked screwdriver adjacent across at the work space behind him. It pinged off one of his robots and clattered to the floor. "I couldn't even if I wanted to! And I don't! I'm a team player, okay? Teams make us all stronger. Sum is greater than the parts, blah, blah, blah. We're still a team, right?" 

"Of course, Tony," Steve turned around again and leaned against an empty workbench. He looked tired, like he'd stopped running long enough for some of his years to catch up. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just worried about Sam." 

Well, shit. Sam stepped into the doorway and knocked his knuckles against the glass. This is what he worried about. Any idea of coming clean about Redwing was out, not if they were already fighting about A.I. shenanigans. Steve and Tony would be at each other's throats, and he had no idea what the best case scenario would be for Redwing. He'd need to keep it quiet for a little longer. "Sorry to . . . interrupt the yelling," he said, trailing off at the end. 

"Sam, you're up!" Steve smiled, wide and happy like someone had flipped a switch. He took three long steps to get within hugging distance and then wrapped his arms over Sam's shoulders for a quick squeeze. "I wanted to be there when you woke up." 

"It's okay," Sam said, stepping further into the room, though he avoided all the automated arms waving through the air. He nodded when Tony saluted him with a couple of fingers and then turned to resume his tinkering on the far side of the room. "Bucky was there." 

Steve's smile slid into something in the vicinity of a grin. "Of course he was," he said, and then stepped back giving Sam a more thorough once over. "You feeling okay?" 

"Yeah, Doc got me all fixed up. That Cradle is good for what ails you," Sam answered, fighting the urge to fidget under Steve's scrutiny. If the doctors hadn't found whatever Redwing had done to him, then Steve wouldn't figure it out from a simple glance. That said, Steve's superpower might as well be making people fess up their guilty consciences. "Well, mostly fixed up. I think I'm on house arrest for a bit." 

"A little rest will be good for you," Steve laughed, he detoured to squeeze Tony's shoulder and say something soft enough Sam couldn't hear. "C'mon I'll walk you to your room." 

"No that's okay, I needed to grab something from my gear," Sam backed away quickly before Steve could toss an arm over his shoulder. "I'll see you for dinner though." 

Sam escaped before Steve could convince him that he needed company. He added it to the stack of guilt he was already collecting, but if he was going to get Redwing and convince himself that the drone's new personality was on the up and up, he needed to do it without an audience. 

# 

Day one was easy, Sam brought Redwing to his room and let the drone explore. It remembered the layout, but it wanted to read the titles on his bookshelf, know why he chose to keep the ones he did. It spent the time he was at dinner reconstructing itself to be able to balance on landing legs that folded up into its body when not in use. The legs gave it a jump in the living creature department, letting it move with a soft mechanical whirl instead of the burn and stink of fuel. Sam lost his heart a little bit more the first time Redwing cut its engines and landed gently on his shoulder. 

Day two they spent prowling the compound as Sam waited for his forty-eight hour doctor's hold to run out. Redwing spent most of it flying beside him, but entertained himself flying through open doors and windows before looping around to try to goose Sam. He found it was an easy way to spend an afternoon, Redwing already a familiar and entertaining presence.

"Walking your robot bird, Wilson? You getting a little stranger in your old age?" 

"Yeah, okay, grandpa," Sam said, pausing so Bucky could catch up with him. "Nice cargo shorts. And by 'nice' I mean you should kill them with fire." 

"Sure, but if I wore those stylish, fitted, booty shorts of yours, I wouldn't have pockets to carry your treats," Bucky teased, digging in one of the side pockets until he came up with a package of M&Ms he passed over to Sam. "What are you up to?" 

Sam tore into the bag, tipping his head back to empty half the candies into his mouth. Bucky had his number when it came to snack time, and Sam's shorts were incredibly stylish, though with an obvious lack of snack space. However, he'd never be too stylish to crunch the candies up around the front of his teeth and then smile widely back at Bucky trying to gross him out. 

"You're definitely the prettiest Avenger," Bucky laughed, squishing Sam into the corner between a window and the hallway to garage. His fingers dug into Sam's ribs tickling until Sam had to resort to hand slapping between bouts of laughter. 

Redwing buzzed down, activating his sound deterrence cannon. 

Bucky turned, squashing Sam further back into the corner as they both slapped their hands over their ears. Sam winced at the noise and pressed his face between Bucky's shoulder blades.

 _"Cut it out before my eardrums explode,"_ he thought, breathing deep lungfuls to distract himself from the pain. Bucky's shampoo and cologne mixed together, smelling masculine and spicy. Sam admitted he enjoyed being close enough to breathe it in, but he made sure to limit exposure to the right side of creepy.

The noise cut off as Redwing shut down his offense and hovered down facing them. Sam hooked his chin over Bucky's shoulder to fix the drone with a stern glare and caught his balance with his hands on Bucky's hips. _"What the hell?"_ he asked. 

_:You appeared to be in distress.:_

"Your bird's a little defensive," Bucky said, still holding his hands up between them and Redwing. 

"Yeah," Sam agreed, pushing out from the corner. He pretended to input commands on the control panel of his gauntlet and then reached up to pull Redwing out of the air. "I've still got some bugs to work out. I was experimenting with a homing beacon so he'd follow my flight path without me having to maintain course corrections." 

"Huh," Bucky said, stooping to scoop up the spilled candy before they stomped chocolate into the carpet and had to sit through another hour long lecture from Tony. "That could be useful. Maybe figure out how to tell it not to scream at me, though?" 

"I'll do my best," Sam promised, giving Bucky a hand up. He then turned and raised Redwing up to eye level. He cut a quick glance at Bucky and started over enunciating. "Bucky friend. Redwing, friend. Bucky and Redwing are friends." 

"You're such an asshole," Bucky laughed and Redwing trilled the lights down his wings, sharing amusement with them. "Hey, I'm craving the carne tapatia from that Mexican joint. You wanna be my date?" 

"Aw, man. Raincheck?" Sam asked, tucking Redwing under his arm. They hadn't had the chance to test how far apart they could be without Redwing feeling the lack of his high function tech. He doubted he'd be able to pass off taking Redwing out of the compound without severe backflips and hoop jumping. They'd have to test and come up with something later. He turned to walk backward through the doorway. "But if you go, bring me back some queso?" 

Bucky twitched his mouth into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Sure," he said, "Anything you want." 

On day three, they went flying. 

_:You routinely plummet from great heights. If anyone should wear a helmet, it is you,:_ Redwing insisted, continuing an argument Sam had already tried to squash. 

"Listen, Birdbrain, I do not plummet, I sometimes fall into a controlled dive to achieve an objective," he said, though he didn't attempt to shout over the wind, knowing Redwing would hear. "I need to be able to see and I need agility. Neither of those two things are helped with extra weight and bulky padding." 

_:Captain Rogers wears both,:_ Redwing said, the grouch easily heard in his voice. 

"Yeah, and he runs like a demented ping-pong ball so he needs it," Sam answered, twisting to roll over on his back and swoop to return back to base. "I, on the other hand, have an iconic profile to maintain." 

_:Safety is iconic. A helmet might have prevented your damage on the Techomage's moon,:_ he returned, shooting in front of Sam and executing a spiral down to treetop level. 

"Over my dead body, drone." 

_:That is what I am afraid of,:_ Redwing answered, surprising Sam with a sneak attack to his flank. 

"Fine, I'll think about it," Sam said, chasing Redwing in a game of tag all the way back to the roof. 

On day five, things took a turn Sam didn't expect. 

:Sam, you are bisexual, correct?: 

"Um, yeah, I guess," Sam said, pushing back from his desk to look for the pen he'd dropped at the question. His sexuality didn't often come up, and bisexual was the label closest to what he felt, so that's what he went with when it did. He was in the middle of a long dry spell though. Somehow, hanging out with Bucky was preferable than going out to look for someone who'd deal with his job and rather obnoxious friends. 

They were in one of the small offices available on the working floor. It wasn't too big, not designed to be a meeting place, but rather a hide and get shit done place. Sam had taken over the one furthest from the restroom with a good view to the south to mitigate distractions. The walls were white, and the furniture, while comfortable were mass made and ordered from a catalog. The only change he'd made was a frame on the desk with picture booth stills of him, Bucky, Steve, and Natasha screwing around at a mall. 

He'd offered to let Redwing stay in his room with Netflix on, but Redwing had wanted to come. So far had managed to keep himself entertained while Sam worked until he looped one last time and landed on the edge of the desk near the phone. :You had sex with the spider woman-: Redwing started. 

"Whoa, whoa," Sam cut that off. He panicked a minute, looking to see if the door was still closed, as if anybody could have overheard. "It was Natasha, not Spider Woman. Don't be starting that rumor. And it wasn't a thing. I mean, we'd just blown up a spaceship. We were celebrating, with adrenaline and kissing." 

:I only mean,: Redwing said, all the running lights on his body were dark, making Sam think he was tense, :that you are attracted to and have acted on that interest with both genders commonly accepted in your society?: 

"Sure, that would be an accurate statement," Sam allowed, wondering where this conversation was going. Over the past few days, they'd talked about everything from the player's union in the National Football League to the nihilism in _Rick and Morty_. 

:So, you do not have a preference between genders?: 

"No, I suppose not," Sam said, closing the file in front of him to give Redwing his full attention. He wasn't on call for another week, the paperwork could wait. He was struggling with the mission debrief that started all this nonsense anyway. He wasn't going to lie, but he also couldn't let a one page synopsis be the way everyone found out about Redwing. 

:When you designated this drone as 'Redwing' you also designated it as male. I wondered if you were still attached to that designation?:

"You want a new name?" Sam asked, more confused. "I thought you liked Redwing?" 

:I do,: Redwing said, walking across the desk and looking up at Sam. :I would like it if you would refer to me as female.: 

"Redwing," Sam reached out running his fingers under her optics, "you are a wonderful bird, and it would be my delight." 

# 

Every Tuesday night was official movie night in the third floor lounge. Sam had missed the last one laid up in medical, but he promised Redwing he would take her to the next one. He packed up some cleaning tools, planning to do a little detail work on her as a cover for bringing a drone to hang out. As much as he'd bonded with Redwing before, he still hadn't carried it around the compound with him. The others were bound to start asking questions eventually. 

Bucky caught his eyes as soon as he entered the room, nodding hopefully to his side. Sam smiled back, but shook his head holding up Redwing in answer. He intended to sit by the window and take advantage of the natural light for as long as it lasted. Too bad, Bucky was a good movie partner; he shared his snacks and didn't breathe too loud. 

He made it over to the seat and then yelped as he felt a shock to his hip. Glaring at Redwing, Sam tried to sit again only to be shocked in the opposite hip. "Sonofabitch, you little tinker toy," he muttered, resisting the urge to shake her. 

"You okay over there, Sam-wise?" Clint hollered, popping up from his pillow fort. 

"No, I'm okay, I think it's just . . . static electricity?" Sam frowned at Redwing, setting her down on one of the unoccupied end tables. _"What the hell's wrong with you?"_

_:Nothing. Mission complete, I'm here for movie night,:_ she replied, cheerful lights sweeping through her optics. _:You should sit with your friends and have fun.:_

"You can sit over here if you want," Bucky said, sweeping his mountain of snacks and blankets to the side to make room. "I've never been attacked by this sofa if you want to chance it." 

"I do like to live dangerously," Sam said, glaring at her one more time before he zigzagged through the chair arrangements to Bucky's side. "You better not put your cold feet on me though." 

Tony made his rounds as Wanda sped through the movie previews. Bucky shook his head, but Sam held out his hand to accept the tumbler and two fingers of whiskey. Tony frowned, looked around the room, and then shrugged, leaving the mostly full bottle on the coffee table in front of Sam. He went around behind everyone, avoiding Clint and his nest of pillows to reach Pepper in the matching love seat across from Sam and Bucky. 

Sam made it halfway through _Fight Club_ , and the slow offensive of Bucky's toes burrowing under his thigh, before he realized what was wrong. _"Redwing?"_ he asked. 

_:Yes, Sam?:_ she answered immediately. _:I am enjoying this movie, but I do not understand how its message has been so twisted in popular culture.:_

_"Debate later,"_ Sam thought, shifting as he stared down at his empty glass. _"Your nanotech, could it be keeping me from getting buzzed?"_

_:Intoxication. Perhaps, would you like me to make some adjustments?:_

_"Yeah, might as well. I could use a little loosening up after this last week."_

_:That should be sufficient,:_ Redwing said, her voice softly amused. _:Enjoy the rest of the movie.:_

He didn't feel any different, but then he hadn't been able to find a difference since he'd woken up in medical. The movie bled into _V for Vendetta_ , and Sam was going to have a serious talk with whoever was responsible for this double feature. Redwing had started up a confused commentary in the back of his head, but he'd decided early to let her talk her way round to her own answers. Before he knew it, he'd tossed back another two glasses of whiskey, and was warmly watching the space in front of the TV until he had a better idea. 

"Sam, what are you doing?" Bucky asked his voice pitched to keep from disturbing the others. He shifted from where he'd somehow entirely wiggled under Sam. 

Sam continued poking Bucky's cheek until he tilted his head to let Sam look at it from a different angle. "I'm trying to figure out your chin," Sam answered, leaning into the arm of the sofa so he could use both hands. His fingers framed Bucky's jaw, and his thumbs stroked underneath and down Bucky's throat. 

Bucky cleared his throat, his adam's apple bobbed as Sam followed it with his fingers. He rolled his eyes down to keep watching Sam, "What – ah- about it is particularly vexing?" 

"You have like a really good jaw, cut some glass with that motherfucker," Sam said, tapping his fingers on Bucky's jawline. "But then it's soft down here and kinda pudgy. Real sweet. And you've kinda got butt-chiny." 

"Butt-chiny?" Bucky repeated, crossing his eyes this time as he tried to keep Sam in front of him. 

"Yeah, but it's also just right for my finger," Sam said, rubbing the little indentation with his thumb. He pinched Bucky's chin and pulled him down and closer. It was really hot in the room, he'd like some water, and licked his lips at the thought. "I can move your mouth wherever I want it." 

"Steve!" Bucky shouted, as he tried to backpedal, but he couldn't burrow any further back into the overstuffed cushions. "Steve, help." 

Sam grumbled at the sudden motion, already feeling a little tipsy. He let go of Bucky's face slid down to rest his head on Bucky's ample chest. A dude made completely out of metal and muscle should not be so comfortable. Sam shouldn't have waited so long to enjoy him for nap time. 

"Uh, hey, Sam," Steve said from somewhere above and to the side of Sam. "Whatcha doing?" 

"Sleeping soon, prolly," Sam said glancing up. He narrowed his eyes and finally reached up to put his hands on both his cheeks to try to stop the world from spinning. "When did you grow extra heads?" 

Steve and Bucky shared a look, but that was fine with Sam. He closed his eyes again, listening to the fast beat of Bucky's heart. He curled his hand in the collar of Bucky's shirt and heaved a sigh. He'd fallen over at some point, and if he curled his legs a little more he could leach Bucky's body heat and not fall off the loveseat. Loveseat, what a funny thing to call a small couch. It should totally be a smouch. 

"Sam, buddy," Steve said softly as his big hand came down to check Sam's pulse and temperature, "are you still taking something the doc gave you?" 

_:Say yes.:_

"Maybe? What?" Sam asked, blinking fast while he tried to drag himself back from sleepy time. "Who? Where? Smouch is a funny word." 

"All right, upsy-daisy," Steve said, scooping Sam up with an arm behind his back and under his knees. 

"Bye, Buck," Sam said, waving over Steve's shoulder. 

# 

Sam groaned, flopping over on his belly and pulling the pillow over his head. _"Redwing? Please tell me Steve did not carry me bridal style back to my bedroom last night,"_ he thought, knowing that even the slight noise from speaking out loud would set his head off. 

_:I would be happy too, but Janet has video footage that would prove me a liar,:_ she answered, far less chipper than he was used to in the morning. 

He sat up in the bed, leaning slouched against the wall. "You okay?" he asked, squinting around the room to find where Redwing had settled. There was a rave going on inside his head, and did it have to be disco? It was well past the time he normally woke up, but assumedly Steve had dropped all the shades on his windows. 

_:I feel like I have sand in my wiring,:_ Redwing complained, though she did manage to lift enough to control a fall from the bookshelf to Sam's lap. 

"Well, at least if you have to share my hangovers, we'll be more careful next time," Sam said, resting his hand on her body. "Anything else happen I should know about?" 

He couldn't remember the last time he got blackout drunk, sometime he was still active military most likely. Sam searched his memory, but couldn't come up with anything after Redwing said she'd make some adjustments, eating most of Bucky's popcorn, and then dragging Bucky's feet up into Sam's lap so he could rub some warmth back into them. The gap in his memory gnawed at him, but at least he hadn’t drunk so much to be sick everywhere. 

:I will be much more careful next time,: Redwing agreed. :Also, you have a doctor's appointment in half an hour. I think I will stay here and not function.: 

"Traitor," Sam said, even while his fingers traced her smooth rounded edges. He'd been attached to the Redwing drone before, but now that she was actually her own being, he couldn't imagine life without her. The drone body felt alive, warmer with her increased processes and able to react to him; she was as real as any of the Avengers. They needed each other. 

:Sam, are you lonely?: Redwing asked. 

"How could I be lonely?" Sam asked, resolutely not actually thinking about the question. He'd spent more than one fruitless night chasing sleep and wondering if he'd made the right choice. A spouse, a kid, a dog, a white picket fence, those things had been out there for him once, but he didn't think so anymore. "I live with half a dozen of my closest friends, I volunteer every other weekend and meet new cool people. Now I have you. You're always gonna be with me." 

:I am very glad to be with you,: she said softly. :But I don't have arms to touch you or a dimpled chin.: 

"Dimpled, what? You know what? Nevermind," Sam rolled off the mattress and hunted around for yesterday's jeans. "I apparently have to go convince a medical professional that I, a grown-ass man, can't hold my liquor, and that everything else is perfectly fine." 

Sam pulled on the first polo he found in the drawer and escaped out into the hallway. "A bird giving me relationship advice, that's what I need," he muttered, heading to medical. He pushed the conversation aside, but it refused to go peacefully, worming its way back into his thoughts at random moments. 

Someone to hold on to, Sam thought. Someone to share his bed and the small moments when he was happy or sad, feeling silly or spiteful. He didn't need those other things society shoved down everyone's throats. He wanted someone who loved him and wanted him. Maybe he should put himself out there more, but that would also mean bringing someone into his dangerous life. He didn't know if he'd be able to live with himself.

#

Despite running into and taking all the teasing from everybody else who'd been at movie night, Sam didn't find Bucky until a few days later. It was too early, the sun still a hint of light blue along the horizon when he stumbled into the kitchen. He headed straight to the coffee maker and only realized a beat later that Bucky had flattened himself to the refrigerator to keep from getting run over. 

"What's up with you?" Sam rumbled, pouring a cup but allowing himself only to breathe in the steam for a moment. Normally, even in the compound, he and Bucky crossed paths often, the library, the gym, Steve's studio, but when Sam realized he was missing his daily helping of frenemy sauce, he couldn't track Bucky down to save his life. 

"Nothing," Bucky said immediately, thus proving there was something. He realized his mistake and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why?" 

"I dunno, you look. . ." Sam trailed off squinting at Bucky trying to figure out what was different. Bucky fidgeted, avoiding looking Sam in the face. Something was going on, and he was going to have to figure out what it was. "Are you growing a beard?" 

Bucky flushed a dark red and raised both hands to cover his chin. "Your mom is growing a beard," he said, vanishing from the room in record time. 

Sam chugged his coffee and then poured a second cup. "I am not awake enough for this," he muttered, yawning wide enough his jaw popped. This investigation was going to have to wait until his caffeine kicked in. "Boy thinks he can talk about my momma. What the hell?" 

# 

"Hey, you're coming with me," Sam said reaching into the library to grab Bucky's sleeve before he could escape. "It's a nice day and I want to go flying." 

"And what exactly do you need from me?" Bucky asked, following Sam without trying to free his arm. If he'd been avoiding Sam before, he'd evidently decided there was no use fighting now. 

"Someone reclassified my wings from having an exercise option to training only," Sam was going to be salty about this for a while. No matter how much he complained, Redwing refused to redo the settings until he caved to the helmet and elbow pads request. "Which means that outside an actual emergency, I can't get them without someone else there to verify they'll spot me." 

Sam moved his grip to a more secure one on Bucky's arm when he saw Clint and Natasha coming at them in the other direction. He was going make Bucky talk and he was going to get rid of the excess energy that kept him restlessly prowling through the compound looking for something he never seemed to find. So he wasn't going to let either of them give Bucky an excuse to disappear. 

He shouldn't have worried. Clint opened his mouth only to have Natasha shove a handful of chips from the bag she held into his mouth. She smirked as Sam nodded and stepped up his pace to get Bucky to the Go Room before anyone else could interrupt. 

When they got to Sam's locker, he had to let go, but at that point, he figured he was safe. He pushed in his code and then stepped to the side for Bucky to enter his. Redwing had settled into his pack earlier, so all he had to do was sling it on. He wouldn't bother with all his armor, all he wanted was to stretch and get his feet off the ground. His wings were a comfortable weight on his back as he worked to connect all the buckles under his arms and across his chest. He turned when he heard rustling noises coming from behind him. 

"What are you getting?" Sam asked, his eyebrow rising as Bucky bent over, rummaging through the extra storage locker. The seat of Bucky’s pants strained, and Sam couldn't help his eyes following the rounded paths down to his thick thighs. 

With a grunt of satisfaction, Bucky stood and turned while Sam quickly averted his gaze. "I got the sparkle-bangs," he said, his smile wide. "Might as well give you a little work out while you're up there." 

"We gonna have some fun," Sam matched Bucky's smile and held out his fist for a bump as they made their way outside. 

Sam wasted no time getting up in the air as soon as they cleared the building's overhang. He shot up, flexing his arms down along his body to get speed and height. When he leveled off, he ducked his head, letting Redwing shoot out in front of him. He felt invincible, high above the ground, wind in his face. Complete freedom. 

Except Bucky was waiting down below, a dark blur waving from the clearing they often used as the starting point for training exercises. Sam whooped loudly and somersaulted, pulling in his wings as he fell down with his arms outstretched. 

_:Sam!:_

"Sam!" 

Snapping his wings out, Sam fired extra thrusters and then landed at a run, pulling his wings in as he circled Bucky, idling his momentum. He wrapped one arm around Bucky's waist and held the other hand up for Redwing to land on. "Aw, y'all worried about little ole me?" Sam asked, still laughing off the thrill. Bucky grinned and tucked some of his hair behind his ear, ducking his head as Sam squeezed him closer. "Normal rules? If I make it to the apple tree in ten minutes or less, I win?" 

"Sounds good," Bucky said, switching his rifle to the other hand so he could match with a hand on Sam's hip. "What do I get when I win?" 

"How 'bout when I win, you owe me a backrub?" Sam teased, stepping away and flinging Redwing back into the air. 

"So when I win, you're going to give me a foot massage?" 

"Man, your feet are nasty," Sam said, pretending to wrinkle his nose. They were fairly even on this training exercise, so it could go either way, but with this bet it would end up with him and Bucky relaxed and together, so he couldn't lose. Of course, he was still going to win. "Deal." 

He took off again, circling to the starting line in no particular hurry. The timer wouldn't start until he turned to the north and signaled, but he also needed to let Bucky get set. The apple tree was about six hundred yards away, and between were permanent booby traps that Bucky could use, and also the launcher he'd brought with him loaded with harmless sparklers that could still dazzle him and set his ears ringing.

 _"Stay low,"_ Sam told Redwing, hovering behind the starting line for another moment before he turned and dropped, starting their game. _"Bucky likes to strike at about the middle of the course. Thinks he can lull me into a false sense of security."_

The attack came swift and from the east. Smoke filled the air around him, and Sam had to shoot up, trading speed for altitude so he could breathe. The fine gray mist dispersed quickly, but it had already done the damage of getting him off his course and putting him exactly where Bucky wanted him.

 _:So much for a slow start,:_ Redwing said, her metal wings flashing in the sunlight for a moment before she disappeared into the canopy. _:He is gone; station one is empty.:_

_"Keep an eye out, I'm gonna try to sneak over to station four and see if I can out fly him."_

There weren't an awful lot of options open, either he'd go for speed, stealth, or strength, but against Bucky, speed was his best bet. **F-thump, f-thump.** Sam wheeled left then right, clenching his eyes tight behind his goggles since the red lenses wouldn't entirely protect him from the dazzle. Two of the sparkle-bangs ignited beside him. He was off course, Bucky making him swing wide to the west, which was odd because there wasn't anything over there except- 

"Redwing, power down, now!" Sam shouted, diving again, this time with his wings swept back and thruster still firing for extra speed. Wind caught his face, the far side of painful, and he was going to chapped as hell later, but if Bucky set off the localized EMP, there was no telling the effect on Redwing. He spotted her, falling from obeying his order, and he clenched himself smaller and added enough speed to grab her moments before she hit the branches. 

He heard the boom of the trap going off and craned his back, pulling up and away. He was definitely going to feel that later. When they were far enough away, on the other side of the course, but sadly no closer to the finish line, Sam landed to start the boot up process. It took a minute, but soon enough, Redwing was back on line. 

_:I forgot about that one,:_ she said, vibrating as she checked for damage. 

"Me too, but I think that's the only electrical trap," Sam said, checking the data on his gauntlet. "We've still got five minutes. We got this." 

Sam let her go and watched her actually duck into the trees. It would cut down on her visibility, but Bucky would have a harder time seeing her coming too. He jumped to clear the foliage and spread his wings. . . only to immediately get hit with gale force winds. The gust sent him ass over head, and he had to pull his wings in until he got his belly down and decided which way to go. He ended up twenty yards in the wrong direction before he turned around. 

That was smart, Bucky had never used the wind machine before; Sam had taken it for granted. When he tried to get the height advantage again, the **f-thump** noise warned him seconds before a sparkle-bang erupted in the sky above him. 

_"Any chance you could distract him for a minute?"_ Sam asked, wheeling again away from his destination as blunted projectiles hurled up in front of him. 

_:Target acquired,:_ Redwing said, her excitement bleeding over their link. _:Sound deterrence deployed.:_

As far away as he was, Sam still heard the high pitched shrill and Bucky's outraged roar. He squared his shoulders and shot the gap, grinning widely when the last boobytrap missed him wide. Bucky was out of permanent stations, and there was now nothing standing between him and one excellent massage. 

"Ha!" Sam pumped his arm, and swept up into a twist of pure fun and absolutely no strategic value as he rolled over to point to the finish line. "Eat it, Freezer Burn. This one is mine!" 

He heard one last **f-thump** behind him, but it was too far away from him to do any damage. Bucky had thrown some tricks at him, but he was going to escape with a win. 

_:Something is not right.:_

_"Yeah, I think it's my lumbar, and it's gonna feel great with Bucky digs his thumbs in,"_ Sam practically crowed, narrowing his sight to the apple tree standing lone sentinel thirty yards in front of him. 

_:Sam, the ammo is live! That last one is real, approaching fast from your left!:_ Redwing screeched in his head, fear nearly overwhelming both of them. 

Redwing's very real panic made him hesitate before he folded one wing tight and swerved to the right. The stink of the missile sped past him and he spotted a small projectile that would still be more than enough to knock him out of the sky. It looped around, headed around for a second attempt at impact. He ducked into the trees, forced to jerk his wings side to side to keep from splatting into a trunk and then exploding. Maybe he could get it to hit something else, but so far the projectile was following him without error. He swerved around, doubling back, but that didn't work either. 

_:I think I can force it to explode prematurely, but I will have to get close,:_ Redwing said, flying up to level with Sam for a moment. _:Slow down for it to catch up, then when I signal you, fall.:_

Watching as Redwing dived again, Sam swallowed his doubt. He pulled up, barely above the tree line, and waited for the missile to close again. He could hear the high whine of it increasing in volume, but he stayed his course even when every shred of self-preservation told him to go. Bucky was down there somewhere watching, and Sam hoped he wasn't about to watch Sam get blown out of the sky. 

He nearing the edge of the tree line, and could see Bucky running toward him from the apple tree when Redwing gave her signal. He felt her shoot up immediately behind him, missing him by inches, as he pulled his wings in and fell into the branches. It hurt, but they slowed him down, and he managed to catch one hard enough to slow his fall. The next branch he hit with his boots, knees bending as his downward momentum stopped and he managed to fall into the trunk, grabbing it for a much needed moment of stillness. 

Above him, the sky exploded. 

"Redwing!" Sam shouted, almost falling as he tried to crane his neck around to see through the canopy. Bits of metal spiraled down, melting through leaves and spitting burns on Sam's skin, there and gone again. 

:I am here,: Redwing's descent was not as precise as normal, as she whipped small branches to the side with her bulk. :But I think I would like us both to be on the ground now.: 

"Yeah, c'mon, I'll move the branches out of your way," Sam said, taking a deep breath before he started climbing down. 

Left over adrenaline made him shaky, his concentration shot as he focused on one branch at a time; move his foot, move his hand, set the other foot, grab the next handhold. Redwing followed him closely, dropping under a branch to hover until he moved the next one. Her propulsion system whined high, and he made a mental note to look at her as soon as they got home. Finally, he hit soft dirt and let out a huge sigh. 

"Geeze, I thought I'd cooked you for sure," Bucky said, closing the distance between them as he reached for Sam's shoulders. He pulled Sam in close, tucking his face into Sam neck and wrapping his arms around Sam's waist to hold them together. “I’m going to murder whoever checked that gear out last.”

"No, I'm good, I'm good," Sam said, folding close to Bucky as his knees wavered. He wiped his wrist across his forehead and grimaced when blood, sweat, and tree goo stuck to his forearm. Maybe he would look into that helmet after all. "It's okay." 

It was a mistake that could have happened to anyone. No harm, no foul, but still the idea that could have been it for him or for Redwing gave him the last push he needed. His gut finally settled, positive he had finally made the right decision. 

Sam pulled back from Bucky, only far enough that he could encourage Bucky to look up with a hand to his cheek. He smiled soft at Bucky's look of confusion, his eyes darted down to Bucky's lips. Sam swayed, pulled in by Bucky's smile. He was so close, he could feel the heat of Bucky's lips. He flicked his tongue out and pressed their mouths together. 

For a moment, it was perfect. Bucky’s hard body melted into him, tensing and sighing at the same time. Sparkle-bangs went off inside Sam’s head as he opened his mouth, darting his tongue out. But a moment was all he got as Bucky pushed him away, and spun him around cheek first to the bark of a tree. He heard a hollow thud behind him and turned in time to see Bucky pin Redwing to the trunk of another tree with his gun pressed into her chassis. 

"What have you done to him?" Bucky snarled to Redwing, his free hand holding Sam back from getting between them. "Don't play with me, drone. Something's been weird since we got back from helping Thor, and you're the link." 

"Bucky, don't!" Sam yelled, twitching against the grip Bucky's metal arm had on his harness. He twisted quickly, striking Bucky’s elbow joint hard enough to bruise his hand, but managed to bend it and free himself. He put himself as close to Redwing as he could, and knuckled Bucky hard in the sternum to get his attention. "Put the gun down. You don't have the whole picture." 

_:Be careful, Sam,:_ Redwing said quietly. She wasn't activating any of the half dozen systems that could have gotten her out of the situation. Her lights pulsed low, and Sam felt her fear again, sneaking up this time like a summer squall on a beautiful day. _:He is only trying to protect you.:_

"I understand that you wouldn't have let me kiss you if you were one hundred percent yourself," Bucky snarled, pushing the barrel even harder into Redwing until the metal screeched in protest. "So this thing is going to fess up, tell me how to fix you, and then I'm going to blow its circuits out." 

"She's my friend," Sam yelled, resisting the urge to try to move Bucky by force since past experience told him it would only make Bucky plant himself more firmly. Instead, he put his hand on Bucky's forearm, curling his fingers gently. "She saved me, twice now, so how about you give us a chance to explain?" 

Bucky's eye twitched, but he relaxed his finger from the trigger. "One chance," he said, pulling away to let Sam catch Redwing before she fell. 

:My name is Redwing. It's nice to finally meet you Bucky Barnes.: 

# 

"This thing rewrote your brain?" Bucky asked, glaring at the corner of the table where Redwing had settled. They'd relocated to one of the picnic tables closer to the compound; the only compromise Bucky had been willing to make. "Tell me again why I shouldn't shoot it?" 

"First of all, we've both told you the pronoun she prefers, so stop being a douchebag," Sam said, grouchy, though he still pushed his half full water bottle into Bucky's easy reach. Aches and pains were starting to make themselves felt, but he knew he needed to finally settle this. "Second of all, no. She did not rewrite my brain. I'm still me. There was damage from the concussion, and some connections wouldn't fire that she remade with the same nanotech she needs to survive. She basically gave me both her kidneys and is counting on me being nice enough to let her borrow them back." 

They were making progress, but Sam couldn't help thinking he'd missed his chance, both to come clean about Redwing's new A.I. and to pursue his feelings for Bucky. His head hurt, and his back hurt, and he'd left his insides back in the woods along with the missile debris. He just really, really wanted a nap and the chance to forget that when he was kissing Bucky, Bucky was plotting drone murder. Redwing was a comforting presence in the back of his mind, but even then, the thought of losing that added to his feeling of general suckiness. He didn’t want to give either of them up, but it didn’t look like they’d be getting along any time soon.

"Sam, this is," Bucky sighed, finally taking his eyes off Redwing to look at Sam. His eyebrows shot up in that way that only happened when he was serious. He reached out, ignoring the water bottle to catch Sam's wrist. "This is a lot. The fact that you kept her a secret-" 

"I explained that," Sam interrupted, holding still to keep Bucky's hand on him. Maybe it was childish, but he didn’t want to give up the touch before he had to. "I was going to, but Steve and Tony, you know how they are. Then I just, I don't know, I got busy. It was nice having somebody around I could always talk to." 

"I-," Bucky trailed off, heaving his own heavy sigh. 

Bucky dropped Sam's arm and started drawing into himself. His shoulders were stiff, body angled away, and that’s when Sam realized he hadn’t been the only one keeping secrets. He’d been close to Bucky since Wakanda, especially the four months they spent traveling through Asia while Steve and Tony went to couples counseling. This thing he was feeling, it wasn’t just him, but he was apparently the last one to see it.

"What did you mean earlier, when you said I wouldn't kiss you?" Sam asked, darting his hand out to grab Bucky before he could push back from the table. The pieces might be starting to fall together, but he still needed Bucky to say it, make sure he wasn't seeing what he wanted to see. 

"Geeze, Sam," Bucky twisted his other hand up into his hair, combing the loose strands away from his face. He twisted a handful and finally looked at Sam, red rising in his cheeks. "I've only been throwing myself at you for months, literally on Purple-Sky-Moon-Planet." 

"Is that really what we're calling it?" 

"Sam!" 

"I'm teasing," Sam said, breaking a grin when Bucky immediately dropped into a glare. He shook his head, and dropped his hand until he mimicked Bucky's earlier hold on his bare wrist. "I had no idea." 

But he should have had the idea. It was so obvious in hindsight. They worked together, they played together, hell, Sam could drop off and nap on Bucky’s shoulder like nobody’s business.

"Well, we do only keep you around because you're pretty," Bucky blushed harder, but he twisted his forearm to break Sam's hold and catch his hand instead. His palm was even damp with nerves, but Sam didn’t mind, lacing their fingers together.

"Do you remember that time in your room?” Sam asked, butterflies in his stomach, both wistful and embarrassed. “We were watching all the _Rocky_ movies, and I fell asleep and drooled on your shoulder?" 

"Vaguely," Bucky said, trying to hide his smile. His body finally curled, losing his Winter Soldier focus as he knocked his knee into Sam’s under the table. "It was before Purple-Sky-Moon-Planet for sure." 

"I wanted to stay," Sam said, rolling his eyes again. He heard Redwing happily sigh in the back of his mind. 

It had been over a year ago, they’d both been sleep warm and comfortable, Bucky’s million pillows braced up behind them. Sam had yawned and looked at his watch, trying to come up with an excuse to stay. Beside him, Bucky couldn’t even keep his eyes open let alone his head from dipping. Getting up had been so hard, shuffling down the hall to his own empty bed, and for a split second, Sam had _wanted_.

"I should have stayed,” Sam said, knowing that he’d just been too scared at the time. “Next time I will." 

# 

"I can't believe you've been keeping this from me," Tony said again as he enlarged a holographic mapping of Redwing's processes to study. 

:We both thought it was for the best given the team's recent history with A.I.: Redwing said, as she kept herself within Sam's easy reach at all time. She'd been uneasy since Tony had jerked the laser scalpel when she spoke aloud and startled him. Luckily, it was only a little singe across her wing, easily buffed out. 

Tony sighed and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. "I'm going to have to write an _A.I. For Dummies_ book, aren't I? F.R.I.D.A.Y? Write an _A.I. For Dummies_ book, okay? I mean superdummies. If you think there's too much shade, there's not. I need three hundred percent shade and an extra dose of salt," Tony said, spinning around on his stool to face them as the hologram melted away. 

:It will be done within the hour, boss,: F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, her voice smug. 

"All right, you two," Tony pointed his fingers at Sam and Redwing. "Stop messing with each other's software. She is a beautiful, fully realized individual with wants, needs, desires, and Lordy help us, anxiety. You, Wilson, are a very adequate human being. There's no control feature, other than the slight physiological aspects you brought up, she can't hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to do." 

Bucky let out a shaky breath Sam hadn't realized he'd been holding. He grinned a little, one corner of his mouth lifting up higher than the other. "I'm sorry I doubted you," he said, crossing the distance to offer Sam his hand. He looked so hopeful, Sam couldn't help but take it. Bucky turned to Redwing and traced an easy finger along the outside of her front optics. "And I'm sorry I threatened to kill you repeatedly." 

:I understand and share your protective streak for Sam. If you hurt him, they will never find your body.: 

Sam facepalmed. "What is my life?" he muttered, though he couldn't stop grinning. For a day filled with near death, his fortunes were definitely taking an upswing. 

"You two," Tony interrupted, pointing his fingers and Sam and Bucky this time. "Get a room. Preferably before midnight. This is my week in the office pool of your will-they-or-won't-they soap opera drama. If I win, Thor has to loan me his hat." 

"I think it's a helmet," Bucky said, shaking his hair out of the way so Redwing could land on his shoulder. 

"Yeah, I don't care. Get out of my lab, before I puke from all your goo-goo eyes." 

# 

They headed to Bucky's room after dropping Redwing off in Sam's quarters. 

Sam couldn't keep his hands to himself, not when he finally figured out he could touch with intent. He had both hands under Bucky's shirt, and his face tucked into Bucky's neck trusting they'd get to a bed eventually. They turned a corner, and Sam pushed them to the wall, pressing their chests together, feeling lighter than air. 

"Hey, guys." 

Beside them, the elevator starting dinging, returning from a lower floor. Snickering, Sam continued to suck a bruise to the soft skin beneath Bucky's ear. He didn’t care who saw them, and nothing short of an all out invasion could separate the magnets that kept his belly pressed to Bucky’s.

"Scott," Bucky growled, his hands possessive on Sam's ass. 

"I heard the kitchen has butterscotch pudding, you want me to save you some?" Scott asked, happily pushing the button in the rhythm of shave and a haircut so it buzzed just as happily. 

Sam shifted so he could catch Bucky thigh between his legs as he rolled his hips down. 

"I think we're good, thanks," Bucky said, the struggle to keep his voice even evident in the bruises that would be visible on Sam's skin later. 

"Suit yourselves," Scott said, waiting for the elevator door to open before he stepped inside. 

"C'mon," Bucky grabbed one of Sam's hands and jerked them away from the wall. He took off down the hallway, pulling Sam in a slow jog toward his room on the opposite side of the wing from Sam’s. "I am not making small talk with anyone else. In." 

Sam let himself be pushed into Bucky's room, and dropped backward on the bed, watching Bucky work down the line of locks on his door. He popped the button on his jeans and let them pull down his hips as he scooted across the mattress. The slight stretch of denim across his rising erection made him wince, he reached down, adjusting himself. The zipper slid open, showing off his bulge. 

"Is that for me?" 

Bucky prowled to the bed, pulling his shirt over his head. Then the shirt got stuck on one ear, and Sam had to smother his laughter in his elbow. When the piece of clothing finally surrendered, Bucky's hair looked as if a family of squirrels had staged a rager that the police had to break up. Fondness welled up in his chest, and he had to be the stupidest son of a bitch not to realize what was right in front of him.

"You are one smooth operator," Sam smiled, holding his hand out until Bucky took it with a scowl. Sam jerked before Bucky could set his feet and rolled over until he rested on top of Bucky's body. The fact that they could be real, didn’t have to go through that awkward phase, made this whole thing even better. "Maybe it's a good thing _you're_ pretty." 

Bucky cupped his hands around Sam's cheeks and pulled him down. "Just kiss me, doll," Bucky said, his lips moving against Sam's mouth until they sealed the kiss. He hitched Sam up, cradling him between his hard thighs. 

_:Sam.:_

"Yeah, Bucky," Sam said, sliding down until his voice muffled in Bucky's chest. He rolled his hips down harder and Bucky locked his legs around Sam's waist, squeezing him like a vice. This first round wasn’t going to last long, but he was fine with that, he wasn’t going to let Bucky go. Period.

 _:Sam.:_

"Sweetheart," Sam stretched up to capture Bucky's mouth, every kiss slick with heat and want. 

_:Sam!:_

"What the-" Sam jerked back, breaking Bucky's hold and slipping off the foot of the bed, "hell?" 

"I dunno, I thought we were on the same page?" Bucky asked, voice rough and out of breath as he popped his head over the edge of the bed to stare down at Sam. His hair fanned out around his reddened face.

Sam held up a finger and gathered himself for a moment. _"Redwing?"_ he thought, trying to shake the irritation at being interrupted. _"What's happening?"_

_:I am going to do a hard power down. I wanted to let you know you will have to reboot my system whenever is convenient after your current activity,:_ she said. 

"You, uh, got all that, didn't you," Sam asked out loud, covering his face while Bucky's eyebrows rose. Heat flamed on across his cheeks as he realized what had happened. "Like the hangover. You were sharing everything?" 

_:Yes,:_ Redwing answered, her voice small and soft. 

"Shit, I'm sorry," Sam said with a wince. "Go ahead and power down. We'll wake you up for dinner." 

_:If it is any consolation, I think I will be able to reroute the feedback now that I have a second data point, but it will take longer than I would want you to wait today,:_ she answered. _:Enjoy yourself.:_

"Well, that's probably the most awkward threesome I've ever been a part of," Bucky said, reaching down to rest his hand on the joint between Sam's shoulder and neck. 

Sam took a long breath and held it for a moment, blowing it out slowly. "Yeah? You been a part of many threesomes?" he asked, pushing into Bucky's touch. He was embarrassed, yeah, and felt guilty that he’d dragged Redwing into it, but they were a family now. And what family didn’t have awkward stories to share over one too many beers?

"Naw, not really," Bucky answered, tugging Sam back on the bed. He waited until they resituated themselves, laying on their sides facing each other. His arm and leg flung over Sam's body, and Sam's hand resting over his heart. "You wanna start over? Or is the mood gone?" 

"Oh, I think we've waited long enough," Sam said, smoothing his thumb up to rub along Bucky's collar bone. "C'mere and give me some sugar." 

Bucky grinned wide and rolled over on top of Sam. 

They didn't end up waking Redwing until morning.

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> Again by [yawpkatsi](http://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com/) please go give them all the love!


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